


There's Something About Blondie

by sidekickjoey



Category: Tangled (2010), Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: Baby, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Funny, Humor, Minor Angst, Nervous Parents, Pregnancy, SO FREAKIN CUTE, Seriously you'll get cavities from parts of this, baby reveal, cute humor, happiness, pregnancy reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 22:39:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17589758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidekickjoey/pseuds/sidekickjoey
Summary: Rapunzel's been acting really strange lately, and Eugene cannot seem to put his finger on why. That is, until Rapunzel figures it out for the both of them.





	There's Something About Blondie

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you're ready for some cuteness, because this one is full of it! Please be sure to leave kudos or comments if you like it :)

She’s been acting weird.

Eugene knows it. He can feel it in his bones in the same way he used to feel a hunch when the guards were catching onto him. She’s off.  _Very_ off. Her normal, cheerful self has become moody, and the sunshine in her smile? Well, it had flown south for the winter weeks ago, replaced with a never-ceasing worried or upset aura (it depended which mood decided to show up).

This is not his normal Rapunzel. His normal Rapunzel would frolic in the grass and sing to the clouds just because it was warm outside. His normal Rapunzel would help the maids clean the castle because she was bored and knew Maid Agatha’s back was obviously hurting her, no matter how much she denied it to Maid Kathryn and Maid Rita. His normal Rapunzel gazed up at him with the kind of lovesick, achingly heartfelt look that sent his mind into overload and made his chest swell with adoration.

The angry, fluttering,  _fuming_  woman before him is not her.

“Honestly Agatha, it cannot be _that_ hard to get my snack request right,” she barks, sending the poor old woman reeling and blushing, embarrassed. “It was only a ham and cheese sandwich with tuna and tomatoes on the side! Why would I want _lettuce_ on that sandwich as well? _Why_ _?_ ”

Oh, did Eugene forget to mention the erratic food requests at strange hours? Because those are a thing now.

He does not want to dwell on the first request he encountered. Walking in to see his lovely wife and finding her hand-deep in a pickle jar chewing away was one of those things he would much rather burn from his memory, right along the time he interrupted some, er, _personal time_ between the King and Queen. Pickles were fowl in his humble opinion, and he was sure her breath smelled like the green abominations for an entire week afterward. They were only the first in a list of odd, disgusting requests she made, though. Liver was a particularly bad one, he remembered. Same with snails. If Eugene is honest with himself, an overly elaborate ham and cheese sandwich is the most pleasant thing the girl has asked for in weeks. Unfortunately for Agatha, it is the one thing she has managed to get wrong in weeks, causing Rapunzel to snap. He really pities her in times like these.

“I-I’m sorry your highness,” she mumbles, bowing in submission, “I did not know if you would want it or not. It was an honest mistake.”

“You’ll do well to _fix_ that mistake and not repeat it, or _else_.”

“ _Whoa_ there.”

Making himself known, Eugene strides into the room and takes his wife by the arms, picking her up and putting her out of the direct line of destruction of poor Agatha. Rapunzel fights him, and he can tell he is going to get hell for this later, but he remains firm on her until he can see the older woman relax a little in relief.

“Blondie, what’s with the dictatorship?”

“She messed up my food.”

Eugene would be lying if he said he did not find the way her voice sounds when she’s pouting or whining slightly adorable. He could never let her know in fear of her using it in retaliation against him, but he likes it. A lot. Enough to flash her a tiny smile in this moment before replacing it with a firm, “Prince Consort Eugene Fitzherbert” face.

“That doesn’t give you the right to yell at the lady,” he chides, tutting. “Look, I’m sure she’s more than willing to fix her mistake and make it without lettuce. Right Agatha?”

He turns and sends the poor woman a smile, to which she tries her best to smile back at while bowing. He does not miss, however, the way her eyes flicker to Rapunzel’s and reveal a hint of fear. He hardly blames her for that. This new Rapunzel scares him a bit too, if he's being honest.

Scurrying away with a quiet _your highnesses_ , Agatha runs for the hills – er, kitchen. As soon as she is out of sight, Eugene returns to his wife and crosses his arms. She looks back at him with the frustration of a child – _But Eugene, she annoyed meeee!_ –and he finds himself almost chuckling at her. Almost. He values his safety a bit too much to laugh when she is like this.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m _fine.”_

 _“_ Which is why you just growled at me and nearly banished Agatha for _lettuce_ _?_ ”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to act,” she grumbles, pushing Eugene away from her so she can sit on her bed. _Their_ bed. Hers again if he does not tread lightly. “I’m perfectly within my right as princess to expect the best from our servants.”

Eugene snorts. “You never call them servants. You told me long ago that that word upsets you. A-Are you sure you’re okay? Because you’ve been acting kind of-”

“Kind of what, Eugene?”

He internally screams a little in terror at the tone of her voice.

“Erratic,” he finishes. “Unpredictable. You’ve been this way for a few weeks and frankly I’ve gotten past the point where I can chuck it aside as just you being tired, or quirky or, well, _a girl.”_

 _“_ Charming, Eugene.”

“Just tell me what’s up so I can help you get through it,” he pleads breathlessly. “I miss my wife. A lot.”

A pout on her face, Rapunzel flops back on their bed. What Eugene does not know is that she does not know what is up with her. She knows she has been acting weird, at least. She knows she has eaten stuff she normally would _never_ touch, because _who eats liver and is happy about it?_  She even knows that she has been reminding herself eerily of the stuck up, strict, downright horrifying example of a woman she calls her obedience teacher, Madame Olivier. Worst of all, she knows she hates it. She hates seeing people cower away from her or grow shocked at her outbursts. She really, really hates seeing Eugene look at her as if she has seven heads and no brain in either of them. The thing is, she does not know how to stop it, and she is running quickly out of options.

She tried painting. She tried archery. She even tried running around Corona, because her psychology teacher said sometimes humans need a bit of exercise to clear the brain and, darn it all, she was going to give that method a try too no matter how cold or full of blankets of snow the city was. Nothing worked. Nothing ever works, she’s afraid. Staring back into the loving eyes of her _very_ understanding husband, Rapunzel bursts into tears, because she cannot tell him what he wants to know and is pretty tired of disappointing the people she loves.

She is lucky she has him.

Previous conversation and outburst aside, he goes to her and brings her right into his arms. He makes sure to comfort her because, yeah, she’s crazy and erratic and slightly out of sorts, but she is his wife and he made a vow to be there for her. After years of thievery and deception, that vow was one thing he was not willing to ever break. In sickness and in health. _In sanity or insanity_ , he thinks.

He shushes her, rubbing her back. He watches her breathing and listens, waiting for her to calm down and even out inside. When her breathing matches a normal rhythm and he no longer hears whimpers, he pulls back and examines Rapunzel’s face. Her eyes are puffy and red, and he’s pretty sure her nose is running, but she still makes him smile.

“That help?”

Rapunzel shrugged, sniffling. “A little.” A comfortable silence falls between them then, wrapping them in a moment of domesticity that makes Rapunzel nearly smile, until suddenly her eyes widen slightly and she tugs at Eugene's shirt.

“H-Hey Eugene, wait a second.”

“What’s up, Blondie?”

“W-What you said,” she says, eyes cast far off somewhere he could never see. “Earlier, what you said about my acting strange. You said something. Repeat it for me.”

Eugene turns up his brow. “I thought you were tired?”

“No, the other thing.”

“Quirky?”

“ _No_ ,” she moans tugging a bit more at his shirt. “The _other_ other thing, Eugene!”

He frowns. When he speaks again, it’s cautious and full of fear of whatever she is thinking. Rapunzel thinking usually leads to one of two things: a new adventure, or something he probably is not going to be a fan of. He is scared of the first one, and the second one makes him consider that perhaps jumping off their balcony a few paces away _may_ not be that bad of a choice to make.

“That you’re a girl?”

Something clicks in Rapunzel.

He can see it in her eyes – the way they flicker like a flame and zone out, rendering her lost to the world. She is onto something, and that something has her hooked.

“Oh my gosh.”

Getting up and wriggling out of Eugene’s grasp, Rapunzel puts her hand to her head and begins to pace. He watches her patiently as she goes. Back and forth, back and forth. She seems like a wind-up toy set to infinity. More thinking is taking place in that mind of hers, he can tell. This thinking is more hard-pressed, more deliberate. The kind you need to pace all around for or else it consumes you. Two minutes later, her voice comes out softer, breathier.

“ _Oh my gosh.”_

She runs off before Eugene can inquire about it or catch her. He watches her, his question falling flat on his tongue, as she makes a run to their bathroom and slides to a stop at their floor-length mirror. There, he notices that she looks at herself for a while. From his vantage point, he sees her inspect herself – her arms, her legs, her face. He then notices her eyes pausing on something, something he cannot quite point out.

And then, her hand falls to her abdomen.

**_Oh my gosh._ **

“R-Rapunzel?”

Eugene’s voice squeaks out even worse than it did in puberty, but it does not even phase her. She does not leave her spot in front of the mirror, and as his heart storms in his chest, her hand also stays put as well. Her eyes are wide like saucers. Scrutinizing. Shocked. She hardly notices Eugene make his way to stand right behind her. Only when she catches his figure move in the mirror does she gasp and turn to face him, nearly stumbling in the process. Eugene catches her arm instinctually, holding her up even as her legs fail her. She stares into his chocolate eyes after this with a weird mixture of gratefulness and apprehension. He is sure he is staring back into hers with pure, unadulterated panic as she speaks next.

“I-I think…I think I’m pregnant.”

Hearing the words leave her mouth makes it all real.

Time flies to a halt in Eugene’s mind. It all makes sense now, he realizes. The moodiness. The temper. The odd cravings. How he did not come to this realization sooner, with his world experience and eight-year seniority over his now twenty-year-old wife, he hardly knows. He should have known. He should have seen the signs and helped her realize what was up before she started to lash out more and worry endlessly.

He should have realized he was going to be a dad.

Oh, heavens above.

_A dad._

Flynn Rider was _no_ dad. He never cared about anyone other than himself – at least, that was how he was in Eugene’s bastardized version of the man. He was _not_ father material, plain and simple. A sight and _experience_  for the ladies and a swashbuckling rogue? Sure. But a dad? He hardly deserved to be around young children. Eugene Fitzherbert hardly has any claim to fatherhood himself. He was raised without a father figure, and what father he did know of died long before he could form proper memories of him. He was an orphan, plain and simple, hung out to dry and told to raise himself. His so-called "childhood" was spent in an orphanage and later on the streets. Eugene Fitzherbert is _no_ dad, because he has no concept of what it even means to be a _son_. Yet, fatherhood is staring him right in the face, an arm stretched out to him, and is telling him _It’s time to learn, Dad,_ and he is _terrified_.

Eugene wonders what it feels like right before you faint.

But then, he sees Rapunzel’s bottom lip quiver. He _knows_ that quiver. She’s about to cry again, and it’s not the good crying one should associate with news of a baby, especially a baby that will be raised as a future queen or king of Corona. It’s a sad cry. A frightened cry that wonders in anxiousness _What if Eugene does not want to be a father?_ and _What if I have to go through this alone?_ Eugene’s heart breaks to see it start. Each tear that falls down her face is his fault and he knows it. She’s scared and he’s too busy having an existential crisis to calm her.

_Pluck up some courage and calm her, you idiot!_

Reaching out, Eugene grabs Rapunzel by the shoulder. “Hey, hey, Blondie please don’t cry. Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

Is it though? Eugene is not entirely sure. He is clueless and she is only just starting to learn what it means to live life. They are so not what is to be expected of a mother and father figure. They are only just now barely realizing what it means to be a son-in-law and daughter of a King and Queen. With a crying wife before you, though, you say things you do not truly believe yet just to get her to stop.

“Rapunzel, look at me, please.”

Gazing up with bleary eyes, Rapunzel sobs and wraps her arms around her gut. It's a heart-wrenching sight, if Eugene's ever seen one. She’s hiding from him. She’s hiding the _baby_ from him, because he was a jerk and she is not even sure what his intentions are for it, for _her_. His heart shatters and melts him on the spot, and he is pretty sure a barely audible cry leaves his lips. This is not how he should be acting.

_Where is that, courage, Eugene????_

“Stop that,” he whispers, carefully reaching forward to Rapunzel’s arms. He gently brings them away from her stomach, placing them at either side of her where they belong. She looks so fragile when he’s finished. He can see that she wants to bring them back up, but with a shake of his head, he distracts her by placing his hands on either side of her face.

“Are you sure about this, Blondie?”

Swallowing hard, she forces her sobs down to respond. “My monthly time hasn’t come for over two months, Eugene. I-I-I was not sure if I was doing something to mess it up, because Mother said things as simple as stress could make me skip a month, and lessons have been hard, but…”

Her voice trails off, shyness taking over. Eugene nods in muted understanding. She had tracked all the signs like he had in her two minutes of deliberation, and the path she blazed led straight to the conclusion they are faced with now. There is no other explanation. She is definitely with child, and they are definitely going to be parents, whether they like it or not. Another choked sob fills the air, followed by the most pitiful of sounds Eugene has ever heard in his 28 years of life.

“ _I’m so sorry.”_

“No.”

Rapunzel shakily breathes out, meeting Eugene’s voice. “W-What?”

“No, you are not going to apologize,” he says firmly, “because there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he commands. She listens, obedient, though her fears never leave her face. Sighing, Eugene tucks a strand of those short brown locks of hers behind her ear, getting the best view of her he can get. “Rapunzel, listen. I know you’re scared. Frankly…I am too.”

“Really?”

“Utterly terrified, if you want the truth.”

Rapunzel shrinks back, eyes falling to the floor. “Oh.”

“But,” he continued, recapturing her attention, “if you’re really pregnant and we really are having a baby, then…then I’m…I’m _happy_.”

This seems almost unheard of to Rapunzel. Shaking her head, she wipes her nose.

“N-No, b-but you were so w-worried, a-and I-”

“That baby you’ve got there?” He points out, gesturing down to her abdomen that, now that he thinks about it, _does_ seem to sport a tiny bump. “It was made out of love. Out of us, Rapunzel. It’s going to come out looking like us and dreaming its own dreams, and we…we may not know what to do with it, and I may be worried senseless about raising it, but I think we’re going to give it a heck of a lot of love. I reckon that just that thought alone is enough to make me happy. I’m _happy_ , Rapunzel. You’re allowed to be happy.” Eugene laughs, the words sinking in for himself as he looks down to that little bump of hers once more. “ _We_ are allowed to be happy.”

There is a twinkle in Rapunzel’s eyes when Eugene finally meets them again. They are still glossy and red from crying, but there is something new there. A spark. A ray of hope and sunshine that had been hidden by those mood swings and fears of hers. For the first time in weeks, he truly sees her blossom into the happy woman he rescued from a tower and eventually married. She lurches forward and wraps her arms around his neck in a sort of death-grip that Eugene cannot bring himself to complain about, her face burying itself into the little crook there. His laughter only increases as she does this, albeit stifled slightly from her hold. She’s _happy_. She’s going to be _okay_. They’re going to be _parents_. They're going to be _happy._ Giggling to herself, Rapunzel pulls back and looks at them in the mirror.

“We’re going to be parents, Eugene.”

Kissing her cheek, Eugene follows her to the mirror and grins like a madman. “We are, aren’t we?”

“Do…do you want to talk to the baby? For the first time?”

His laughter calming, Eugene looks to Rapunzel. “Are you sure? Will it even be able to hear us?”

She shrugs, not sure. Then, she smiles. “I think they want to hear you are happy for themself.”

_Sounds about right._

Without another word on the matter, Eugene kneels down on one knee and places a tentative palm on her stomach. It is warm where his hand rests, and though he cannot feel any movement yet, Eugene can almost sense a presence beneath her clothing and skin. He laughs slightly to himself, in spite of himself, only to clear his throat and grow serious again.

“H-Hi there.”

Rapunzel giggles. “So casual.”

“What, like you’ve spoken to a baby before?”

Seeing her roll her eyes, Eugene shakes his head and then turns back to his unborn child. “It’s your dad, Eugene. Don’t mind your mother, Rapunzel, talking up there. She’s silly.”

“Eugene!”

“ _Really_ silly,” he grins, sending her a wink. “But don’t worry, she makes up for it with how much she loves us.

“We aren’t entirely sure how we’re going to raise you, you know," he says softly, rubbing his thumb across the fabric of Rapunzel's gown. "I had no childhood, and your mom, well, she’s still a child in some ways. She's still learning. It’s going to be confusing and crazy and possibly a struggle for the both of us, but you just keep in mind that we’ll always love you through it all. Especially your mom, because I don’t think she’d know how to feel any other way.”

“Your father is pretty loving too, you know.”

Looking up, a sparkle reaches Eugene’s eye as Rapunzel strikes his heart with a tender smile.

“He’s strong and determined, and a bit too proud at times,” she teases, earning an animated _HEY!_ from Eugene, “but when he really cares about something, he gives it his _all_. He’s going to love you so much just because you’ll exist in his world. And when you’re older, he will teach you all kinds of things, like climbing and archery and maybe even _hide and seek_.”

“I can see you teaching them a few things too, Blondie,” he says, kissing her abdomen. “If it's a girl, I think you have her covered in learning how to style her hair. Plus, I don’t know someone on this planet who can bake as well as you do.”

She blushes. “It _was_ my favorite pastime.”

“Maybe it’ll be theirs, too,” he shrugs, the thought warming his heart and brightening Rapunzel's smile. Sighing dreamily, he takes her hand into his. “You’re going to learn a lot from us, little one. I hope you enjoy every minute of it.”

“W-We love you so much.”

Kissing her palm, Eugene looks up to his wife with shining eyes and beams.

“Yes, we do. And we always will.”


End file.
